


Hunger of The Pine

by bbguns554



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alt-J Hunger of The Pine, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, The train scene, World War II, Yearning, so semi-character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbguns554/pseuds/bbguns554
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes thinks change is coming, can feel it in the air.  He spends the night thinking</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger of The Pine

Sleeplessly embracing  
Yawn yearns into me  
Plenty more tears in the sea  
And so you finally use it  
Bedding with me you see at night  
Your heart wears knight armor

Hunger of the pine

Late at night Bucky stays up and listens to the sound of deep sleepy breathes in the tent. He can’t sleep. He isn’t sure he has slept in the past year, not since Austria. Bucky wishes he could reach out and find comfort the way he used to, but Steve is different now, so far above him now. Bucky supposes he always had been. He had always seemed that way, but now others saw it too. 

It’s near the end now he can feel it. Change is coming in a big way, there’s something about the air he just can’t shake. 

There’s a mission coming up soon, but isn’t there always, and sometimes Bucky is so tired he thinks his eye might fall out of his head, but he keeps marching. He would do anything to stay here, not because he gives a good goddamn about American Values, because of Steve. Little Steve who would do anything to stand up for The Right Thing, Little Steve who is now big, larger than life. Bucky always had a feeling that someday others would see Steve the way he did, as a paragon of everything good and right, he just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

The other men sleep seemingly peacefully, waiting for tomorrow’s light, but not him: the lone soldier. Waiting for his moment to protect and if necessary sacrifice himself for Steve. He thinks it might make him pathetic to be in love with his best friend, but there is something so imperviously good about Steve that it must negate anything truly bad about it. Bucky waits in silence for the sun to touch the horizon.

Bucky remembers a lifetime ago, watching Steve be so noble and strong, not physically like he is now, but in the way only he knew how. Bucky was always there to back him up. One day Bucky remembered looking at Steve as the light faded beyond the buildings of Brooklyn and thinking how beautiful, how pure Steve was. Not beautiful like the dames he knew, but better, more authentic, more alluring. A lifetime ago he realized he was different. A lifetime ago he realized his heart was too big for his chest when Steve was around. 

Late night sleepovers with Steve were bittersweet after that. The deep-seated need to reach out and touch was pushed back in favor of more appropriate activities like chatting about dames and friendly drinking games. Steve would insist that they still share a bed, because where else would Bucky sleep, but the thought of having what he wanted to close tore him up more than sleeping on the floor. Yearning on the floor, desperately trying not to reach out. 

Bucky’s realization both destroyed him and made him stronger. He figured that if he couldn’t have Steve then he was going to find a Real Lady to appreciate Steve the way he deserved. Steve always deserved the best. Bucky thinks back to all the double dates he set them up on, all the failed tries, which is really what it amounts to. For all the love he had and all the kindness he wanted to give, Bucky could not find a way to give Steve the happiness he was worthy of.

It was easier now to push it all aside, it was war after all. Bucky wanted to save people, needed to save people other than Steve to prove to himself that he was a good guy too, that he belonged here with the other honorable men, with Captain America. Soldiers were beginning to show signs of waking, their breathing not as deep, a frequency in turning over. 

Bucky didn’t feel as bad about the urges he had as he used to, but that didn’t mean he was about to inflict them upon the only pure and right thing in his life. He had already done too much in this war to come back whole. He killed people, expertly and without remorse. Sometimes he could feel himself fall away, like he was in trance, there but completely absent. He had the ability to enter a region of his brain that could not be touched by emotion or even physical pain; he could be and live the mission given to him. As empty as it felt it still felt a whole hell of a lot better than the gaping wound in his chest that opening wider every time he thought about Steve having a future, a wife, a lover, that was not him. As much as it tore him up to be near him, being away from Steve or worrying about him on a mission was worse than losing an arm. Steve was more to him and more a vital part of his being than any body part could ever be.

Bucky used to dream of reaching out. Steve was untouchable. The nights on his floor were bittersweet. He remembered the lumpy pillow beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling, Steve long since gone quiet. He dreamt of climbing back into that too small bed and pressing himself into that small body, memorizing the softness of his skin, the slightly sweet smell of Steve’s soap, the way his muscles moved under his skin. How badly he wanted – still wants – to kiss his eyelids, neck, lips. 

Bucky gets up and heads in to thick of the woods pressed in close around camp. He still wants it so bad sometimes he can hardly think. He imagines that Steve feels the same as he does and is letting him know in the nod of his head, in the corner of his smile. He leans against a frozen tree, the brisk of the winter morning reassuring him that he is awake. He gets hard thinking sinful thoughts about Steve before or Steve now and reaches his hand into his pants. It doesn’t matter to him; he’s loved them both. He thinks Steve’s lips have stayed the same, the curve of his mouth as he smiles, so bright, so warm. Bucky finds temporary release in the woods, muffled groans as he finishes. 

 

The mission is simple, or the mission is complicated. Bucky doesn’t know, because he trusts every word Steve says, knowing that anything coming from him is worth it’s weight. He’s not sure if he knows or if he just thinks he knows, but the end is coming.  
They take the jump, that ten-second window, and make it to the train. Zola was ready though, things started moving fast, faster. He gets a few good shots in before it all goes to shit. Steve gets hit, drops his shield. Bucky picks it up, he always imagined it would be heavy in his arms, but it is surprisingly light. 

There’s not much time to think before the next shot is fired and suddenly Bucky is flying through the air, out the train. On instinct alone he reaches out and grabs the bar on the side of the train car, wrenching his arm. It feels like it might pop out of its place any second, but it holds, Bucky holds. Steve is climbing towards him, that shining beacon, Captain America. Bucky scrambles to move close enough to take his hand, and he thinks Steve is trying to tell him something. 

The bar disconnects. Steve is definitely screaming, or maybe it’s him, Bucky wishes he could make it better. By the time Bucky realizes what happened, what is happening, he is only able to think one selfish thought, “I wish I could make you miss me the way I want to be missed by you, the way I will miss you, or not at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily influenced by Alt-J's album "This Is All Yours" which I highly recommend you give a listen to. Hunger of The Pine in particular as the lyrics suggest that missing someone - pining - is a physical pain, like hunger. Thank you so much and comment if you can.


End file.
